


Concession

by ozomin



Series: Kinktober2020 [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Breathplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Scent Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozomin/pseuds/ozomin
Summary: Kinktober2020.
Relationships: Aida Riko/Kiyoshi Teppei, Hanamiya Makoto/Kiyoshi Teppei
Series: Kinktober2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968988
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6: Masturbation/Scent  
> Pairing: One-sided Kiyohana?  
> WC: 1.8k  
> Summary: Hanamiya finds Kiyoshi's jersey in the locker-room.  
> note: if I write anymore kiyohana this month it will all end up here ;;  
> enjoy~

Third year Hanamiya finds himself still on the basketball team however with a willingly reduced role. He'd conceded after a long talk with the overlooking faculty after their loss last year citing college entrance exams and focusing on his study. Hanamiya didn't object, even if entrance exams have historically always been easy for him studying or not. 

Not that it was a change of heart but he'd decided he had better things to do after Furuhashi and Seto blew off their specifically created regimen for the umpteenth time. Someone else could wrangle them because he sure as hell wasn't their baby sitter. Someone else could do the menial tasks, he just can't believe he did it for free for so long. 

So he settles with being captain, and still scolds the rest of them for acting like animals, especially in the locker room, he couldn't care less what they do, but something about roping him into it is what makes his blood pressure rise and thus his urge to maim. 

He didn't have to answer to anyone before and honestly it's the one of the few things he misses, because now he has to answer for things like a messy club room or a trashed locker room. 

They weren't complete barbarians this time which Hanamiya can be thankful for at least. He cleans up the fallen towels and throws them into a pile by the door to be picked up later. Since he's there, the other side of the locker usually reserved for visiting teams now warranted a quick inspection. 

It hadn't been used in nearly two years, since Hanamiya became captain and coach and found every other team not worth the time. His third year brought actual practice games thanks to their coach who rebuilt many relationships Hanamiya had burned with a bomb blast seemingly over night. 

One of most notable olive branches had been to Seirin, with way too much bowing for Hanamiya's taste, Seirin reluctantly agreed to the practice game match up. 

The game wasn't a complete disaster even if Hanamiya would've liked a little more bloodshed. Instead they played a fair game which was as boring as it gets. The visiting side of the locker room is clean, no towels left on the floor, no forgotten socks or god forbid underwear. Seto will never let Hara live that one down. 

Hanamiya peers under one of the benches, he wishes he hadn't seen it. It's a jersey, crumpled beneath the bench like it had been folded up on top and fallen beneath and they'd left before anyone noticed. 

He reaches for it with one hand and pulls it towards himself, he spies the jersey number and jerks his hand back as if burned. 

The number seven looks up at him as if mocking him. His grimace of disgust turns to a flash fire of anger and her grabs it roughly, crushes it in his grip before throwing it on the pile with everything else with the intent to throw it into one of the trash bins on his way out.

He circles the rest of the locker room for anything he might have missed, he checks the shower stalls, turns the faucets more tightly shut, closes each stall door in turn. 

But it keeps coming back to him. 

Why is it here? He knows why because they're a bunch of forgetful fucks, but he wants to know why it couldn't have been literally any other team member and he would've been fine chucking it into the bin and thinking nothing of it. 

Hanamiya shakes his head, god does he hate Kiyoshi. He doesn't need a reminder of him seemingly staring at him from the pile near the door this whole time, judging him. 

Suddenly he doesn't care about whatever else he was supposed to do, he'll make up an excuse later to coach, because he's stalking back towards the heap of dirty towels and stooping to stare at the dirty jersey on top of it all. He just stares at it for a while, endlessly frustrated and wishing his stare could be as physically sharp as it is and capable of working through Kiyoshi's jersey by proxy to pierce the real thing. 

There's something akin to shame and guilt in his gut, freezing him still. That if he touched it again there was no telling what he would do and what he would allow himself to do with little consideration for what it looks like or what he thinks of it. 

He traces the printed black and red lines with his eyes, observes how big it is, why is he so uselessly big? That maybe if he slips his eyes shut, he could hide the true nature of it from himself. 

He feels the hem of it beneath his fingers, as still as hearing himself breathe in the silence of the locker room, he hesitates just briefly before pulling it to himself, his chest going tight and his skin clammy. He's an embarrassment. A shame. 

Hanamiya screws his eyes shut tight and everything washes away when he pulls the jersey up to his face. 

It's replaced in a flush of dried sweat and and the tinge of artificially concocted ocean wave scented aerosol spray. It's the brine of Tokyo city air, urban metal and air traffic that weaves through the threads of the shirt and winds itself between the stitches. 

Hanamiya inhales and it feels like Kiyoshi's around him, Kiyoshi's the one swallowing him whole with sharp teeth and wide gaping maw. 

He doesn't expect the idea of it to settle heavy and burning in his gut. For the warmth of Kiyoshi to settle full around him, smothering him from the inside out. He doesn't expect his blood to simmer hot, doesn't expect to feel his cock throb. 

To feel his chest ache.

Except he does. 

Hanamiya snatches the shirt up and disappears into one of the shower stalls. Locks it hastily as if in hiding and maybe he is. The cool tile at his back through his shirt, biting and pressing against his heated skin. 

His breath stutters before he brings it back up to his face, tempers down the sick feeling in his belly to indulge himself just the once. 

For something like this. 

The coil of old paper and deep caramelized sugar suffuses through him. It's like he's in Kiyoshi's hold and Kiyoshi's body is holding him down in submission. 

Hanamiya palms himself through his pants. His breaths coming fast and hot and trembling. His cock filling with blood in his hand, increasingly stiff. He moans, muffles it with his fingers and keeps going. 

Hanamiya digs the blunt nails of his other hand into his arm as if he could stop himself after falling headlong into its depths, as if there was still a point to come back from. 

The jersey is warm in his hands and if he closes his eyes, it's Kiyoshi's body his face is pressed up against, Kiyoshi's hand so completely around his throat he could barely hope to scent him anymore. 

Hanamiya stuffs his hand down his pants.

The groan he releases sounds like quivering relief bouncing against the tiles and back to him, echoing in his ears, resonating through his sinuses with enough force to incapacitate him. 

Kiyoshi is a hum of late summer autumn, cool mornings meeting hot sluggish nights, the salt of his skin prickling, and burning like Hanamiya can feel it in his own blood. 

Hanamiya curses, curls his fingers around his cock and tugs and feels his chest compress down like the air is being pushed out.

He inhales deep and it's the brush of fallen flowering dogwood petals like Kiyoshi's mouth wet on his throat. Kiyoshi's tongue sliding past his lips. 

Seirin in a rough current of steel and glass and the softer more traditional pull of heavy timbered oak and camphor and Kiyoshi's scent is the meld of the two, woody, springy, the wash of the porch at his home. 

How much he'd love for Kiyoshi to be balls deep in him. To fucking humiliate him in front of his teammates. Tell them he belongs to him only. Make them watch him submit. Precome dribbles from the tip, slicks his palms as he strokes up and down almost furiously. Almost too rough to even fully take it in. 

The jersey smells of delicate shoji sheet paper and the comfort of tatami. It's embedded deep in the fibers of it, Hanamiya exhales whatever is in his lungs and inhales Kiyoshi, replaces whatever emptiness is inside him with the dry heat of Kiyoshi's body. His only company in this empty half lit locker room. 

Kiyoshi's hands on his hips, Kiyoshi's weight weighing him down until he's helpless and cannot move. Even if he wanted to. He wants each puff of breath to be a bloom of maroon on his skin, each sharp gasp to be bites along his throat. 

Hanamiya presses his forehead to the cool tile and and breathes out against it, watches it gather on the surface for a moment before dissipating away. 

His cock and chest are aching and he doesn't completely know if it's pain or pleasure all he knows is that the sparks leaping in his gut are all Kiyoshi's fault and the reason his chest feels tight is because of Kiyoshi, the reason his heart doesn't feel right in his ribcage is because of Kiyoshi. 

Hanamiya thrusts into one hand and brings the jersey down along his skin with the other. That Kiyoshi's scent settling along his won't be completely disgusting, that if this is the only time and method of fitting them together like forcing pieces from different puzzles to each other, then he'll live with it. 

Kiyoshi scent comes more alive against the heat of Hanamiya's body and the sheen of sweat on his skin like perfume becoming more aromatic after it's settled with the heat of a body for a while. Kiyoshi is swirling summer air and the sway of maple loud coming down over him like a thick fog. Kiyoshi is hibiscus scented conditioner and the sharp vaguely tropical scent of sunscreen bright on his nose. The warmth of wood burning fire and the smell of incense smoke curling towards the ceiling from an altar. 

Hanamiya lets it surround him until he's not even himself but instead he's Kiyoshi's missing half, walking in a body that belongs to him and always has. 

Hanamiya's hips stutter, he screws his eyes shut and tightens the circle of his fingers, he comes breathless, barely a sound could come from the squeeze of his throat. White splatters the shower tile in front of him and drips onto the tile at his feet. 

He looks at the mess on his fingers like it's not his. Like detaching himself from this as soon as possible is the only way to make it out as unscathed as possible. 

As if it were possible to but he's learned denial is a pretty stubborn son of a bitch.

He washes it off the tile, off his hands until they're scrubbed raw and ditches the jersey in the nearest trashcan. 

He resolves not to think about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya tries to court Kiyoshi but Kiyoshi's too dense to figure it out right away. Hanamiya's ready for a mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12: A/B/O  
> Pairing: Kiyoshi x Hanamiya  
> Wc: 6.1k  
> Notes: a/b/o au, college au

The first time Kiyoshi sees the wolf he's walking back from campus. When he has the time he prefers to take a more scenic route back to his apartment than take the train. His path borders a river side, banks of grass and concrete sidewalk. It's afternoon, and the air is already thickening with the first touch of summer. 

Kiyoshi usually sits on the bank for a little while to collect his thoughts before heading back home from campus and today is no different. He's looking to see if his usual spot on the bank next to the least trafficked stairs is open. He can see the vacancy and he's about to start walking there when he hears a sniff and a small whine from behind him.

Kiyoshi freezes in his tracks, foot still in its half step. He sniffs the air, there's no scent. Suppressant patches on the owner? He turns his head and finds a wolf, ears flicking, gunmetal grey with stormy eyes Kiyoshi's sure he's seen somewhere before. It's a smaller one, especially compared to the larger tawny of Kiyoshi's own wolf form, a form Kiyoshi hasn't seen since last summer. 

He sighs. Perhaps the convention of relegating the wolf form to mere forms of play between children should be amended, it's a little disenchanting of a concept. 

"Adults don't usually play these sorts of games," Kiyoshi says, he chuckles, "but maybe we should more often." He pauses, "would you like to join me?" Kiyoshi says, "I'll be here for a little while." 

Kiyoshi's smile is wide and the wolf pants, steps up to him, reaches his knee. It walks alongside him and settles next to him in the grass sniffing at him as he pulls books from his backpack. 

"I won't ask who you are," Kiyoshi says, eyes skimming the nearest paragraph about the feudal era of Japan and the corresponding questions in his other hand. He pauses. "I think we all just need a little company now and again." his expression is fond, thoughtful. "As long as I'm here and as long as you want to be here, I welcome you." Kiyoshi says watching the wolf's ears flicker, watching its tail swish along the grass. 

Kiyoshi focuses on his studies a bit then, reading and jotting notes and yawning, once or twice the wolf beside him seemingly close enough to catch it, maw wide and toothy and sharp. It's close enough for its wet snout to sniff at Kiyoshi's empty belt loop. It's nearly curled at Kiyoshi's side, eyes closed, resting but Kiyoshi doesn't think it's asleep by any means. 

Not for now anyway. 

So Kiyoshi continues a little while longer, until the sun has dipped another hour more, pouring thick honey heat along the river bank, dry breeze urging Kiyoshi to go home where there's air conditioner and a shower. Kiyoshi stays just a little longer, the wolf beside him, gunmetal fur lit up in near orange as if in an attempt to camouflage with the longer brush further down the bank. Its breaths are steady and even, Kiyoshi wants to pet its head or give it a scratch behind his ears but touches like that are usually reserved for the familiarity of a pack, chosen or family and as far as Kiyoshi knows, this wolf is alone and may not welcome a touch like that. So Kiyoshi suppresses the urge. But if he closes his eyes, taps into the dreamy daze of late afternoon sun making everything rosy and pink, they're a brief pack of two. 

Entirely chosen and Kiyoshi kind of likes that idea. 

Not that he doesn't already have a little pack of his own made up of friends. 

Kiyoshi chuckles and watches the wolf's eyes blink slowly open, eyes glowing yellow beneath grey, watches its ears and fur rustle and ruffle as if it had been caught unawares and hadn't meant to drift off. 

"It might be time for me to go home my friend." Kiyoshi says, packing his books away, sliding papers back into their respective folders. Kiyoshi zips up his bag and stands up, the wolf's eyes following him all the way up until it must lift its head to continue following. "Would you like to accompany me on my walk home?" he says, "before I have to see you off?" 

With a huff through its snout and a flap of its tail against the ground, the wolf stands, paws at the ground before stepping forward in a clear confirmation. 

Kiyoshi gestures with his head and begins walking, the wolf at his heels. 

"You know my friend," Kiyoshi says as they enter back into the busier streets of the city. "I'd like to say you're familiar to me." Kiyoshi watches the wolf point its nose up at him, ears folding back. Kiyoshi laughs, "I stand corrected. Who knows how many of us are grey. I wouldn't know I haven't seen many wolves in my lifetime except for when I was a kid." he says fondly. "But I'm sure you've experienced similar." 

The wolf makes a low trilling noise, as if conveying an "so-so" reply. 

"Yeah, I had a feeling." Kiyoshi says. They're standing at a streetlight waiting for the light to give them the go ahead to cross. There's a little crowd around them, a pair of students walking back from school and business men with suitcases. None of them look twice at the wolf next to Kiyoshi. "Oh, I guess high school students don't have their ears out that much anymore." he muses when they step off the curb and begin walking. "When I was in high school, everyone walked around with them out, even tails too sometimes. " 

They turn off the busy street into a more residential area, the wolf still beside him, tail flashing back and forth leisurely. 

"I don't know why I'm saying these things. I'm sure you know just as much as I do. I'd wager to say we're in similar places, forgive me but you don't look too old or too young either." Kiyoshi says, he watches the wolf pant beside him, tongue curled out and eyes staring up at Kiyoshi like he's one step away from saying something insulting and after that it cannot be held accountable. 

Kiyoshi once again suppresses the urge to pat its head even though it feels even more tempting than before. 

"Ah," Kiyoshi says, backing off in a way that sounds effortless and natural. He chuckles a little. "No need to take the offensive stance. I assure you I was just trying to relate." 

The wolf makes a noise akin to a snort, a chuff of a growl but continues in step with him. 

Kiyoshi's apartment building isn't the most expensive thing in the residential area, not by a long shot, the heating doesn't work half the time and in the summer the lack of insulation really shoots the air conditioner in the foot. Kiyoshi steps up onto the stairs but finds his new friend still at the bottom. 

Kiyoshi raises an eyebrow, "Your time is at an end I'm guessing? Unless you're afraid of stairs?" 

The wolf paws at the bottom step before it sits at its haunches, tail swaying side to side, head still. 

Kiyoshi nods, "Hopefully this isn't the last time I see you then," he waves and continues his way up. Kiyoshi's sticking his key into the lock, he has half a mind to peer back over the railing to find the wolf gone. 

"I'm home," Kiyoshi says closing the door behind him. His roommate isn't even home yet but it's a habit he doesn't want to break. 

Kiyoshi cooks noodles on the stove and cracks an egg on top to poach while it simmers away. His stomach gurgles in anticipation. 

He spends the next few hours after eating and cleaning up back on the living room couch with his books back out next to him, even if he's just watching basketball reruns on tv having the books out is a step nonetheless and feels like enough progress that guilt doesn't settle in yet. 

Kiyoshi hears the door just down the hall begin to unlock and the handle turning. 

"I'm home," a little bit of a lackluster tone. 

Kiyoshi chuckles, "Welcome home," he says watching Hanamiya come into view. He's in a button down and slacks from his shift as an administration secretary on campus. His sleeves are folded up his arms, the shirt is wrinkled from the train ride, his bag slung over one shoulder. "Go clean up," Kiyoshi says, "There's some extra noodles for you on the stove if you're hungry." 

Without a word, Hanamiya heads down the hall and Kiyoshi hears the door close a moment later, the sound of the shower. 

Hanamiya's pushing his books over to make room for himself on the couch a half an hour later, in old basketball shorts and a too big shirt, the bowl in his hands newly warm from the microwave. 

They don't talk too much, Hanamiya slurps and yawns and critiques the players on tv like he's a coach despite never playing outside of mandatory high school physical education classes. 

"I met a wolf today," Kiyoshi says as Hanamiya's placing his bowl onto the coffee table. 

Hanamiya's eyebrow perks up as he sits back. "Oh? Who?"

Kiyoshi blinks open at him a few times, "Ah, I don't know," he says with a pleasant serenity that Hanamiya rolls his eyes. 

"Then why mention it?" he snorts, "It's probably just some omega attracted to your alpha stench--I really don't need to know--" he makes a motion of pinching his nostrils shut between his fingers. 

Kiyoshi laughs, "Could be," he pauses, "I couldn't scent anything off them--probably a patch--not that it mattered though," Kiyoshi says, "they just sat by me for a while while I did some work. It was nice." 

"I'm pretty sure it's the alpha stench," Hanamiya says poking his cheek, "they're courting you but don't say you heard it from me." he says grabbing the remote from next to Kiyoshi, he leans back and crosses one leg over the other, "the scent of an alpha calms people--even if the alpha is dumb as shit," he says starting to flip through channels. 

Kiyoshi can only nod, "Huh," he says frowning, "I guess so." 

Hanamiya settles on a variety show full of inappropriate stunts and comments about seemingly everyone on it, he laughs a few times and Kiyoshi only notices he's gone silent about thirty minutes into it because the host makes a very disparaging comment about his cohost's suit, surely something Hanamiya would snort at and when he hears nothing, Kiyoshi turns his head to find Hanamiya has nodded off next to him. 

His head is lolled to the side, eyes shut and breathing steady. Kiyoshi watches him for a moment, his head falling further forward to rest against Kiyoshi's shoulder. 

Kiyoshi lets him sleep for a little while, he'll tell him to go to bed once he's done with the chapter he's currently on, the one he's by now struggling to keep his eyes open for. 

Hanamiya's body is warm next to him, nestled against him, his hair still shower damp and messy over his forehead. Kiyoshi sighs deep, why can't he be this pleasant when he's awake?

Kiyoshi smiles fondly, it wouldn't be him if he was. Hanamiya next to him gives him echoes of the wolf on the riverbank, napping away seemingly secure next to Kiyoshi, an alpha it's never met before. 

Kiyoshi snorts, it can't be the scent can it? He lifts his free arm and sniffs under it, should he wear patches? He can't be that strong can he?

With a click of a button, the tv turns off and Kiyoshi folds his book closed, he shakes Hanamiya's shoulder just enough to stir him. 

"Time for bed Makoto," Kiyoshi says soft.

Hanamiya smirks, crooked in his lethargy. "Don't call me that." he says, eyes shutting once more. He stays like that for a few beats as if gathering the strength to take himself to his room. 

With another yawn, Hanamiya sits up and then stands up, "'night Kiyoshi," he says half a croak, the other half barely there before he heads down the hall. 

"Goodnight Makoto," Kiyoshi says. 

Kiyoshi finds himself looking forward to his walks home, nearly everyday of the last two and half weeks, the little wolf has been waiting for him, only to nap curled against his thigh on the riverbank while Kiyoshi reads. He comes home to nights with Hanamiya who's just as prickly as he usually is, even when he's helping Kiyoshi cook dinner and brushing flour out of his hair and loudly complaining about how strong he smells. 

Kiyoshi misplaces one or two of his sweaters that he usually wears but he knows he's not the most organized person so he thinks nothing of it, they'll show up eventually. 

Hanamiya goes through heats and makes Kiyoshi couch surfs at Mibuchi's place for a week. Mibuchi welcomes him with open alpha arms and they spend time together while Mibuchi treats it like an extended sleepover and plucks stray hairs from Kiyoshi's brow line while Hayama flings his arms around his middle and nods off to sleep. Nebuya stops by often around dinnertime and they eat together. The wolf doesn't show up hasn't for over a week before anyway - it's been nearly a month now with constant visits, Kiyoshi feels too cold to stay by the riverbank for too long now that autumn is beginning to roll in and he can see his breath in the air. He's a little down that he never got to give the wolf a little update or goodbye for the time being but he figures they'll meet again hopefully come spring. 

So for another month until the grass isn't frosted every morning and the yellowed leaves on the ground turn crunchy and soggy, Kiyoshi now takes the train straight home, no extra stops. 

Kiyoshi's sleeping in for what feels like the first time in weeks when he hears scratching at the door. He hears the padding of paws along the seam of the door, a soft sniff. 

The scent of sage seeping inside. Kiyoshi sits up, pulls his blanket to the side and away. 

"Hanamiya?" he says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hasn't seen anyone's wolf form since they were kids frankly, so why now?

"Hanamiya?" Kiyoshi says when he reaches the door, as he pushes it gently open. 

There's no wolf staring back at him and no Hanamiya either. But the scent remains, strong as ever, herb and warming spices, something almost industrial. 

He at least knows that's Hanamiya's scent even if he hasn't fully scented that in years he's so caught up with his suppressants schedule. 

The scent leads Kiyoshi around the corner to Hanamiya's room. 

"Are you okay? Is something wrong? I'm coming in--" Kiyoshi says hand at the handle as he turns it and pushes in. 

He doesn't expect to see Hanamiya's room a mess of its former self, a nest of blankets at the center uptop his futon, winding around him, nestling him. Is that his missing sweater he lost two weeks ago? 

Hanamiya's nestled in the middle, under a thin sheet, his ears and tail out the way children and vulnerable omegas tend to do. The room is thick with his scent, heady to the point Kiyoshi squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to focus. He knows that undercurrent, god does he know it. It precedes the apartment every time he has to pack a bag and head to Mibuchi's. 

Something in his gut tells him he probably won't be doing that this time. 

Something akin to baser relief slithers down Kiyoshi's spine and he chuckles as it all clicks together, "Oh," he laughs again in spite of it. "All those dumb alpha jokes make more sense now--" he says coming closer, sifting through the permission of Hanamiya's scent to guide his way. He sits at the side next to Hanamiya who's curled under the sheet. "We're you courting me this whole time?" he says brushing a bit of Hanamiya's fringe back with his thumb. 

Hanamiya peeks an eye open. "I was starting to wonder if I'd just chosen a stupid alpha," he says sighing deeply, "And I was right. I could've chosen anyone else--" he's cut off by Kiyoshi's nose nudging his skin, he's sniffing at his scent gland beneath his ear. 

"You smell good Makoto," Kiyoshi says, "You're heat is soon?" Hanamiya squirms under him, eyes falling shut once more. 

He nods, "I'm not doing this--," he sighs, "just to sleep with you." he settles with. "Believe me I'd choose a different alpha if that was all it was." 

Kiyoshi smiles so broadly he gets the little crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He leans over and kisses Hanamiya's temple. "I know that." he sniffs up against the gland again and Hanamiya untenses this time. "I don't even have to stay this time if you still want time. I can call Mibuchi--" Kiyoshi's cut off by the look Hanamiya's giving him. 

Complete and utter disbelief, maybe even a touch of blunt disappointment to round it out. 

Kiyoshi chuckles, "Have you always been this cute Makoto?" he says, outside of his nose, still keeping his distance with the rest of his body. Kiyoshi scents him in a measured manner as if this is all Hanamiya has offered him and if Kiyoshi doesn't take that then he gets nothing else. He's breathing deeper and deeper each time until Hanamiya's eyes flutter shut, "You really have." Kiyoshi says, he gets a little playful jab to the gut for his trouble. 

"You were already pushing it," Hanamiya says. 

"So I was." Kiyoshi says, completely as if realizing it for the first time, however not upset at the knowledge. "You want me to stay for this heat then?" his question is a touch more firm, it's not something he plays around with. 

"Fucking--" Hanamiya grits his teeth, tenses his jaw, untenses it a moment later. The rest of him going limp in resignation. "Yeah, yeah that's what I want from you." 

"You want to see if we're compatible as mates?" Kiyoshi says, this time a little more teasing, a little lighter like he can't help but voice it to make it more tangible. 

"You've got four hours tops if you want to back out," Hanamiya says like it pains him. "I didn't have to do all that--"

"No," Kiyoshi says immediately. "It's not the day I was expecting Makoto," Kiyoshi says scenting him once more for permission, when he scents no dissent, he slides one arm forward connecting the space between their bodies, hand along Hanamiya's arm. "But life has a way of presenting you with an option that might even be better than the initial anticipation." he says soft. "I want this." he kisses Hanamiya on the temple. His eyes flick to the twitching ears on Hanamiya's head. The gentle flap of the tail beneath the sheet. 

Kiyoshi chuckles, "We'll take it slow." He says. "Do you typically do breakfast day of?" 

Hanamiya frowns, "Usually after the first wave, everything inside feels too--" he makes a wavy motion with his hand. "right now to eat anything." from scent alone Kiyoshi can kind of get the jist of where he currently is in his heat progression. 

He's starting to smell sweeter, like there's fruit seeds blooming along the vegetation of his scent. Kiyoshi can feel it in his own belly, if this goes well, Hanamiya's own pheromones will sync up his next rut by next month at the earliest. There's a low growl in the back of his throat that he sees Hanamiya react to with a further baring of his throat, presenting it to Kiyoshi, chest beginning to heave as he breathes deeper. 

Kiyoshi's scent must be doing similar things to him. Kiyoshi doesn't feel very hungry anymore, his appetite slipping away, now preoccupied with the omega he's been entrusted to take care of for the next few days.

"Alright," Kiyoshi shifts in closer. Expression curious and open when he flicks his eyes to Hanamiya's. "And are you--?" 

It takes Hanamiya a pause to realize what he's asking. He's a little pink in the cheeks when he moves the blanket aside, revealing more unmuffled scented skin and a little patch near his hip. "Knotting is A-Ok," he says with no inflection, as deadpan as ever. 

"Ah," Kiyoshi's eyebrows lift towards his hairline. 

"If you don't peel it off, it should last me the entire heat." 

"Oh, so you prepared for this?" Kiyoshi's voice goes a little lower, his hand moving onto bare skin this time. Hanamiya shivers beneath his touch. 

"I don't think you'd knot me if I didn't." Hanamiya says lips nearly a pout, "you're actually the upstanding kind of alpha--a little boring if you ask me but--"

Kiyoshi nips at his jaw and Hanamiya's eyes fall closed. "Are you saying you're ready for pups?" There's heat in his own gut from even speaking about it. Hanamiya's skin is already starting to flush in angry blotches. 

He swallows down a whine, pushes Kiyoshi's face away with his hands. "You'd like that wouldn't you? But we can barely afford your dorayaki addiction--it's not healthy." his hand stays on Kiyoshi's cheek, "so no, I don't want that yet." 

Kiyoshi moves his face back closer enough to kiss his cheek, "I'll make sure nothing happens to it then." he says, planting soft kisses against his cheek over and over. 

They go a little quiet after that. It's still earlier than either of them would've woken up and Kiyoshi's breathing and scent of security lull Hanamiya back to sleep for a little while. Hanamiya takes the sleep while he can get it. 

It's nearly mid morning when Hanamiya's eyes flicker open, brows coming together and the ache is already settling beneath his skin, smoldering and coming to life in the restless muscles and new first wash of heat slick between his legs. 

Hanamiya tugs at Kiyoshi's shirt next to him, Kiyoshi's bulk unmoving where he is beside him, hand on Hanamiya's belly. 

With a hum Kiyoshi begins to stir awake. 

He barely awake for a minute before he lets out a breathless, "Ah," and begins to shift closer to Hanamiya, his hand resting on the blanket separating them. 

Hanamiya's still tugging at him, "Take it off," he breaks off, he's already sounding desperate. Kiyoshi pulls his shirt off in one fluid motion, keeps eye contact with Hanamiya before and after as soon as he can. Hanamiya settles back in the bed, shucking the sheet down and showing Kiyoshi everything. 

The flushed skin, the hard leaking cock, the long restless line of him, thighs closed but moving outward slowly like it's taking everything in him to stay as still as he is. 

"Kiyoshi," his voice is shuddering, "F-fuck," he's already struggling to focus. 

"Makoto," Kiyoshi's presses his body against Hanamiya's side, breathes against his scent gland, lets his own warmth and scent fill the room, soothing and comforting. Hanamiya unwinds next to him, limbs untensing. "Can I kiss you Makoto?" Kiyoshi says searching his eyes. 

Hanamiya is not yet at the incoherent stage because he has the time to look visibly incredulous at Kiyoshi. As if to say "Are you joking right now?" 

Kiyoshi leans over and kisses his forehead, "It doesn't hurt to ask." he says. With that Kiyoshi moves down, kisses his cheek, then his nose, before settling on his mouth. 

Hanamiya moans the moment their lips touch. Kiyoshi presses kiss after open kiss to his lips, slips his tongue in. 

Hanamiya's hands are wandering all over whatever parts of Kiyoshi are within reach, digging his fingers into the warm skin and finding purchase on his biceps. 

The scent of Kiyoshi in the air is steady thickening, spiking just enough to punch the breath from Hanamiya, his cock already dribbling across his stomach. Kiyoshi kisses down his throat, he moves his head to give Kiyoshi more room. Kiyoshi is nothing if not steady and measured despite Hanamiya turning sweet in the air like a perfectly ripened fruit. 

Kiyoshi licks at a nipple and Hanamiya shuts his eyes despite trying to stop the urge, he wants to look at Kiyoshi. He sucks at one while he pinches the other briefly between this thumb and forefinger. 

"Fuck me, fuck me please," Hanamiya is murmuring over and over, he watches Kiyoshi move lower down, mouth along his belly, lips dragging through the precome, soft and soothing against the heat just beneath his skin. 

Kiyoshi wastes no time in licking a stripe up Hanamiya's cock once before swallowing him down, presses his hands, palms and fingers splayed along his hips down against the jumping muscles, the trembling in his hips. 

Hanamiya can't even spare any time to think about or acknowledge the way they're just leaping over every boundary right out the gate because right now the rush of it all is what's keeping him from falling apart. 

Kiyoshi drags two fingers lower, down to his rim that's sticky and wet with slick already, he rubs in circles while Hanamiya shakes in his hands and moans with no regards for volume. He pushes them in in the next breath with little resistance and Hanamiya gasps loud and low, lifts his hips to follow the movement of Kiyoshi's fingers. 

He's already ready for more and Kiyoshi seems to just know because he's adding the third, sliding inside the slick heat and Hanamiya heaves what sounds like a sigh of relief. Kiyoshi begins to piston his fingers with a pace that Hanamiya cannot keep up with, eyes squeezed tightly shut, he's lost in the throes of it with his only hope being that Kiyoshi doesn't stop. 

With insistent fingers he's pulling at Kiyoshi's boxers waistband, tugging impatiently, thighs falling further open as if drawing Kiyoshi's eye that this is where he would like him instead. 

They kiss messily, Kiyoshi slips his tongue in, pulls at Hanamiya's bottom lip as he adjusts himself between Hanamiya's thighs, pushing the waistband down with the heel of his hand. Both his hands land on Hanamiya's hips, thumbs up against his hipbones. Kiyoshi lines up, searches Hanamiya's eyes, his scent briefly for the go ahead and thrusts in in one stroke. Hanamiya's back arches gracefully upward, he groans like it's all he's ever wanted. 

Hanamiya comes the first time of many after the third stroke, stretched around the girth of Kiyoshi's cock, come splatters his belly and he's murmuring Kiyoshi's name. 

"Teppei--" he's breathing hard, his cock still stiff, jumping between them and twitching. "Keep going--fuck--keep going," he manages to get out sounding only slightly strangled. 

Kiyoshi starts a full bodied quite quick pace, his own eyes sliding shut because the pull of Hanamiya is so great. He can feel his knot as inevitable, his own heat in his gut beginning to bloom. Kiyoshi's panting against his throat, hard and ragged. Hanamiya clenches around him, his body oscillating being pulling taut and lying comfortably limp under Kiyoshi. 

Kiyoshi doesn't have much experience of heats with a partner, so he barely sees it coming when his knot begins to catch at Hanamiya's rim and Hanamiya's fingers begin to dig into his shoulders, he's moaning and cursing. 

"Almost," Kiyoshi murmurs wet against Hanamiya's adam's apple. "Fuck--almost," 

Hanamiya's gasping, feeling the stretch every time Kiyoshi thrusts forward now. "Teppei--claim--me--fuck--please claim me--"

If Kiyoshi were any other alpha, he'd have seen red. He would've dug his teeth into the scent gland nearest him and claimed like it was his job. 

Kiyoshi still feels the rapid heated pull of it, his scent spiking at the admission, Hanamiya moving his head to the side to bare his throat, but instead Kiyoshi nuzzles it with his nose. He says, "I'll ask again when you can think Makoto--" he breaks off, his knot is too big now to be pulled from Hanamiya's body, he begins to roll his hips, another minute or so and he'll reach his full size. 

He can feel it when it happens, because Hanamiya's body is tight around him, he can see it because Hanamiya comes again, shivering, chest heaving, come dribbling from the tip this time. 

Kiyoshi settles above him, arms braced, afraid to put his entire weight down, Kiyoshi hangs his head when he begins to come. He nestles his face in the crook of Hanamiya's shoulder and throat. Hanamiya's hands slide into his hair, his breaths still staggered in Kiyoshi's ear. 

Kiyoshi doesn't know how much time is passing but Hanamiya's breathing is beginning to even out, his thighs are fluttering and settling against Kiyoshi's hips, he lifts Kiyoshi's head in his hands traces the flushed cheeks, the sweaty skin with his eyes before he leans up and kisses his forehead. 

"Are you okay?" Kiyoshi says still breathless, he rests his hands where they're around the back of Hanamiya's shoulders. 

Hanamiya gives him a wry look. "I'd be fucking embarrassed if you didn't just witness all of that--" he smirks, lips curling. "Am I your intro to the all mighty omega?" 

Kiyoshi grins a little sluggishly back at him, his nod a little jerky. "I didn't expect--"

"The cosmic pull of my asshole?" Hanamiya says with no inflection, "well, welcome to the club Kiyoshi." 

Kiyoshi hangs his head again and laughs against his throat. "I'm happy to be here." his back is jumping a bit in time with them. 

Hanamiya's hands are still in his hair, they're pressed together from top to bottom, Kiyoshi rests his cheek on Hanamiya's chest when they settle down. 

He's curling a bit of Kiyoshi's hair idly around his finger when he says, "You said you were gonna ask me--"

"Oh," Kiyoshi's cheeks flush red. "That." he plants a kiss to the skin closest to him. "I wanted to wait until you could think everything through. I feel like you'd be the type that would want that chance--"

"I meant what I said," Hanamiya says, they're not looking at each other, Kiyoshi can feel his heart beating next to his ear. "I want that--from you Kiyoshi." 

"You do--" Kiyoshi begins to lift his body, surely jostling the knot keeping them connected because Hanamiya winces and tells him to stop moving. Kiyoshi lets out a slow breath to center himself as well and settles back down, curling his arms around Hanamiya's body. 

"Okay," Kiyoshi says quiet, "I think I'd like that too." a pause. "I know we're definitely rushing but--"

"We've known each other since elementary school," Hanamiya says, "the most we're gonna get in terms of scolding is fucking Mibuchi telling us he feels betrayed because we didn't tell him anything--"

Kiyoshi chuckles, "That's true. After this he's gonna want all the details."

"Therefore I suggest moving far far away from him." Hanamiya says without skipping a beat. 

"Please Makoto," Kiyoshi's arms tighten around him, "he just wants to see you happy. He wants to see us happy." Kiyoshi lets out a slow deep breath. 

"What?" Hanamiya says above him. 

Kiyoshi can't hide the smile in his voice. "I'm gonna have a mate before all this is over Makoto." 

"Don't be a sap Kiyoshi." Kiyoshi can hear the pout in his.

Kiyoshi smooths his hands along the skin beneath his palms, reverently, affectionately. "But I mean it." he says, "If only I'd caught on earlier--"

"That doesn't matter anymore." Hanamiya cuts in. "It doesn't. You wouldn't have known. I wore patches because I chickened out. I really thought that half-assing it would give me the result I wanted."

"But we got there. So don't worry about it." 

"I won't," Hanamiya says firm, "so, how long does this--" he gestures at them with his chin, "typically last?"

Kiyoshi buries his laugh into his throat again. "A little while still Makoto and then we can have some breakfast. You must be hungry."

Hanamiya's stomach gurgles between them as if to confirm. 

"Alright," Kiyoshi says, "breakfast first thing--"

"Shower first--" Hanamiya says, "I like to wash before food. In the inbetween spaces." 

"Okay." Kiyoshi says lifting his head to press their lips together, a quick closed mouth kiss. 

They stay locked for another hour, Hanamiya's squirming under him when Kiyoshi finally begins to deflate. He's stiff again and Kiyoshi strokes him fast and quick, he comes on a soft groan, holding onto Kiyoshi's arm. 

Once Kiyoshi's deflated enough he begins to pull out and the stretch there is still enough that Hanamiya hums and lets his thighs fall open. 

Kiyoshi helps him wash up, undresses completely now and scrubs his back and kisses up his body beneath the shower spray. Hanamiya's legs are a bit shaky but he holds onto Kiyoshi's shoulders to steady himself when Kiyoshi sucks him off once more. Knowing that that should be enough to hold him over until the next waves comes back with a vengeance in a few hours. 

They talk like usual over breakfast except Hanamiya is in an open yukata and Kiyoshi's only in an apron and nothing else, he can't keep his hands off Hanamiya, as if it wouldn't feel right if they weren't touching. As if everything in Kiyoshi is telling him his mate is right there and preparing him for the moment of claiming.

Hanamiya's next wave hits him around noon, he squirms on his knees and fully presents himself to Kiyoshi who takes in the wash of slick down his thighs and the pretty pink cock hanging between them with the same hunger as the wolf inside him. 

Kiyoshi watches his hands as he strokes himself roughly, his hands tugging frustrated as if they won't be enough. He wants Kiyoshi. 

"Ah--hurry up asshole--please fuck--" 

Kiyoshi digs his fingers in against Hanamiya's hip and with the other slides in two fingers. 

"Fuck," Kiyoshi says low, "you're still so wet and full for me Makoto," 

Hanamiya moans and his cock leaks silky threads of precome onto the sheets. Kiyoshi curls over his body so completely, Hanamiya is nearly hidden in front of him. The angle is awkward but they fall into a messy kiss that's more breaths and bites on Hanamiya's part than it is actual meetings of lips. 

Kiyoshi hums as he pulls back, kisses him between the shoulder blades and begins to press the head of his cock up against his rim. 

The moment the head of Kiyoshi's cock pops inside, Hanamiya lets out a low noise of approval, his head hanging down, back arching. 

"More," Hanamiya breathes, "more Teppei--" 

Kiyoshi, finally beginning to catch the current of things sets his pace fast and hard right out the gate and Hanamiya curses and swings his hips back to meet him halfway. 

This time when Kiyoshi's knot begins to inflate, he moves them onto their sides, this way he can slide his arm around his middle and brush aside the hair covering his scent gland with his fingers. 

Hanamiya only stiffens for a moment, anticipating the pain surely. Kiyoshi rolls his hips up into Hanamiya, rim catching nearly every time now. He bares his teeth, the wolf in him elongating the canine to knife sharpness. Hanamiya's fingers are digging into his arm. His eyes are shut. 

"Yes," he's breathing. "Claim me Teppei, claim me--" his voice breaks and Kiyoshi's knot swells to full size and his teeth sink into the flesh of the gland and Hanamiya comes apart in his hands. He clamps down around Kiyoshi and his moan comes out strangled and broken. Come splatters his belly and the sheet in front of them. 

Kiyoshi doesn't let go for the space of three very deep breaths. As if he can feel their scents mingling and becoming one flurry of soft scents of the earth's vegetation and the warmer summer scent of the thick late nights. 

Kiyoshi pulls back and immediately licks at the wound, soothing the now swollen gland with his tongue, layering upon his own pheromones through his saliva. Hanamiya goes limp in his hold, breathing heavy. 

Kiyoshi's teeth recede back to normal human size, he plants a kiss at Hanamiya's nape. "You're mine now Makoto," he nuzzles his face against the soft skin at his back as he empties inside him. "How does it feel?"

Hanamiya's still panting, the space of three more long deep breaths. 

"You're mine too Teppei," he says softly. Kiyoshi wishes they had changed orientation so he could see his face better. "It hurts and it feels tight." he says. But even Kiyoshi can hear the little smile on his face even if he can't see it right then. 

"It'll heal up before your heats over," Kiyoshi says licking it again. "I'm yours." he says. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiyoshi is in love with his coach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: Student/Teacher/Age Gap  
> Pairing: Kiyoshi/Riko  
> Wc: 2.1k  
> Notes: coach x college student relationship

The court is empty. 

Empty seats, empty locker rooms, empty floor. 

There's still confetti rustling across the polished planks, blinking in the low lights above them, from the home win. 

It's Kiyoshi's last game of the season. 

His short cut college season. 

Riko winds her arms around his shoulders, twines her fingers in the hair at his nape. 

"You're gonna do great Teppei," she says tugging at his jersey, comforting, something to do with her hands. 

There's twenty minutes before janitorial duty shows up, everyone's gone home over half an hour ago. The last of Kiyoshi's team headed towards the last train of the night. They'd all wished him good luck, patted him on the back and tried their best to throw him up in the air despite his default bulk. 

"--We'll talk after," Kiyoshi says, lips pressed to her cheek, body pressing hers against the farthest wall, he's breathing shallowly against her skin. 

"Teppei," Riko pinches his cheek, he slides one of his thighs between hers, she hums. 

"Coach," Kiyoshi slides their mouths together, his hands, palms spread across one of her cheeks, the other at her hip. Riko has to crane her head to meet his lips even though he's already ducking his head. "Riko," he says breathless. She digs her fingers into the broad of his back between his shoulder blades, holds on tight to him. "I don't have to--"

"You must," Riko says firmly, "do this for you. Not me. Not the team. Do it for you. You deserve this Teppei." she says. He kisses along her jaw now. Hand coming up to slide under the hem of her polo shirt, jostling the lanyard still around her neck, the keys to the locker rooms, a whistle. 

"Then I'll go." Kiyoshi says mouthing wet across her throat, hand cupping her breast beneath her shirt. 

It's Kiyoshi's last day in Japan. Before he transfers to a university in Texas with the intent to draft and play for their team while he attends. He'd been scouted since he was a freshman. 

Riko had recommended him and everything had gone through in the past year. Kiyoshi is twenty he'll finish college at the San Antonio State University. 

It's what he's always wanted. 

Even if it means leaving it all behind. Riko doesn't want him to wait for her, or to risk selling himself short for what amounts to a college fling. He should live the life he wants not one more regret. 

"Good." Riko says, moving both her hands to his cheeks, framing his face, her expression is pride and something a little more melancholy. "Good--" she repeats as if convincing herself. 

Kiyoshi towers over her, holds her in his arms for a moment, covers the whole of her body with his own. He was already big when he showed up in that first practice, and the years of adulthood have only added on muscle and made him less wiry, less plucky looking if he even was marginally plucky looking. 

He grew into himself the past three years. 

Their lips come back together, Kiyoshi moving hungrily against hers, tenderly, like he doesn't want to let go. Like the taste of her is divine and he's truly savoring it. 

Riko swallows, something thick and unnameable, breathless when he pulls away. This is it. Long distance seemed more distracting an option than Riko would've liked and Kiyoshi won't be able to visit as often. It would be too much trouble. 

Riko's fresh off an unrelated broken engagement and Kiyoshi's just about to really start his life. They're two people moving in two different directions at two wildly different speeds and they just happened to cross for the time being, but Riko can already feel him diverging, moving away from her, slowly, steadily, all at once. 

Kiyoshi hums against her throat. "Stop thinking Riko," he says, going back to his earlier activity of gently squeezing her breasts over her bra, beneath her clothes. "If this is it, don't make it into something you want to forget." he says low. 

Riko nods, he's right. Kiyoshi pushes up her shirt with his hands, her breasts and plain white bra out for the world to see. The court is hauntingly empty but between them they hold the sort of comforting warmth that renders all of that null. Riko whines into his mouth and it's like the atmosphere of the court amplifies it. 

Like it's drowned out in the space and amplified like the cheers from the audience just hours earlier. 

"I won't forget this--" Riko starts to say indignant but the movement of Kiyoshi turning her around, his front pressed flush to her backside cuts her off. His hands are at her pants buttons, pulling them open and sliding his hand down inside her underwear to feel how wet her cunt is. They both groan, Riko into the wall plaster and Kiyoshi into her hair at the feel of it. 

Red springs to Riko's cheeks and one of her hands flies down to grasp onto his forearm. Kiyoshi slides his fingers along the length of her, soft and wet and slick, to the press at her entrance, Riko hums as he doesn't quite press inside yet so much as he strokes across it back and forth, nearly leisurely. 

"Teppei," she says breathless, Kiyoshi's free hand directs her face to his despite the angle, she chuckles into his mouth, "Don't tease--" he slips two fingers inside and Riko's words stutter, breaking apart. 

"As you say coach," Kiyoshi says playfully. Starting a slow measured thrust. Riko moans, muffles it against Kiyoshi's cheek, condensation slick on his skin. His thumb nudges the peak of her clit nearly every time on the downstroke. Her body shuddering in the hold of his arm.

When he pulls his hand up, his fingers are glistening and Riko smashes their lips back together, his hand shucking up her shirt and pushing down her bra lower, folding the cups down beneath her breasts to expose her. He rubs at her nipples with his wet fingers, brushing against them as they harden between his fingers. He curses low and quiet, kissing her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. 

"Hurry Teppei--" Riko gasps, her hands coming down to help him push her khakis lower down her thighs, her underwear too. 

She's nearly ten years his senior. It's a lot of life he hasn't lived yet but Kiyoshi always made up for it. He committed to her so fully and wholly even when she told him it didn't have to be anything, Riko gets a little choked up about it, but he's an adult too. If it became something she promised she wouldn't be ashamed of it, not that she is now. 

Kiyoshi grinds his cock against her backside through his basketball shorts, thick line of it heavy between her ass cheeks. 

Riko's always had a feeling that for now it felt right but there would soon be that time when it didn't. 

Kiyoshi got accepted nearly a month ago and they had celebratory sex in her apartment mudroom because they couldn't make it to the bedroom. They'd laughed into each other's mouths and it felt right and Riko felt sure about it for the first time since it started. 

It still feels right now as Kiyoshi pulls his cock from his shorts and smacks it gently against the bud of her ass cheek, he groans, sliding it back and forth along the cleft of her ass, grinding and hips stuttering before pulling through. 

"Teppei--" Riko scrambles into her folded pants pocket. With some difficulty she pulls a condom. Kiyoshi takes it from her in the next breath, ripping it open with his teeth, the wrapper rains down somewhere near their feet. With a low groan Kiyoshi rolls it on, Riko turning her head to watch the movement of his hands, the shifting muscles in his forearms. 

She reaches behind herself to stroke him, the condom already warm with his body heat, line him up and wiggle her hips back until he's pressing inside finally. Her eyes fall shut and Kiyoshi's hands land on her hips tighten enough to leave marks and it's something open and unhesitant until Kiyoshi's to the hilt and they've both stilled like statues, just appreciating for a moment the feeling of being so full and the velvet clench of her cunt holding all of him in. 

Riko bites her lip and rocks her hips back, Kiyoshi lets out a long breathless, "Oh--Riko," he says finally closing the gap and swinging his hips forward to meet in the middle. The added power between the two of them makes Riko gasp against the plaster again. Her cheek pressed to the wall now, Kiyoshi starts to quicken his pace, none too slow, there must still be a remnant of the adrenaline riding in his blood. 

It's only faintly registering how loud the sounds of their skin smacking together must be in the silence of the court. There would be no mistaking what they were doing, not by a long shot. 

Kiyoshi grunts, hair still damp from earlier sweat, it sways down over his forehead. He pulls Riko closer to his body with his hands, one landing right over a breast, his palm covering it completely, her nipple trapped between two of his fingers, while the other moves around to dip between her folds, rubbing in hasty circles, spreading the slick of her along the coarse tuft of hair beneath his palm. 

Riko curses, eyes fluttering shut. Kiyoshi must understand that they can't stay here long, not if they don't want to put both their positions in jeopardy by being caught, because Kiyoshi isn't usually this impatient. It's easy for him to pull the pace forward, tug Riko along with him with no missed beat. 

He's always been good at knowing things like that. At doing things like that. 

She's lifting up onto her toes to make the angle as comfortable as possible for both of them, he's already bending his knees, has been this whole time, just to reach her, to make her as comfortable as possible. 

"Teppei--" Riko's voice is a broken string of sounds, "I'm close--" she says. 

With a rushed exhale, Kiyoshi brings both hands back to her hips, thumbs at the small of her back, presses down until her body is bent more at the waist, and he can lean over her, kiss the back of the hand closest to him that's braced again at the wall near her head. 

He pulls his cock out, only to the head before rolling his full weight forward in a heavy thrust that jostles Riko in his hands, he keeps going like that, pace slower, but thrusts that much harder, one of her hands coming down to give her clit the attention it needs to bring her the rest of the way. 

Kiyoshi's mouthing and nipping at the skin of her shoulder and nape. Soothes the pinches of pain with his mouth and tongue. 

With a thrust more impatient than the others in comparison, Kiyoshi's clearly beginning to lose rhythm, his breaths coming faster and more ragged, Riko comes gasping Teppei's name, cunt tightening and clenching around his cock, his hips stutter completely and Kiyoshi pushes in deep and comes, filling the condom following at her heels. 

He's breathing hard, they both are, Riko brings a hand up and squeezes his where it rests over her belly. It takes them a moment to collect themselves, with a low sigh, Kiyoshi slides his cock from her. He's leaning back over to kiss at her nape, nudge her neck with his nose so she'll turn her head and they can connect their lips.

Kiyoshi kisses her sweet, reverently, so softly, Riko's scared each time he pulls away that it might be the last one. She turns in his hold, to wind her arms over his shoulders, to kiss him better with no awkward angles in the way. 

"Take care of yourself Teppei," Riko says searching his eyes. "Promise me that much won't you? Don't make me take the next flight to San Antonio to make sure you do--"

Kiyoshi chuckles, "Then maybe I should fuck up just a few times." he smiles. "--enough to warrant a visit." 

Riko pinches his cheek, "I mean it," she holds his cheek in her hand, he moves his head to nestle against her palm. 

"I mean it too." He says turning his head to kiss the center of her palm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya and Kiyoshi fool around after a practice game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: Biting/Angry Hate Sex  
> Pairing: Kiyoshi/Hanamiya  
> Wc: 3.5k  
> Notes: This could be the spiritual sequel to the scent prompt. Ruined Orgasm, breath play

Hanamiya hits the back of the shower stall hard enough the breath is knocked from him, the stall door closes and Kiyoshi's body is on his, pressing him to the wall with the sort of weight Hanamiya should've expected from him except for the fact that throwing his literal weight around is something Kiyoshi just doesn't do often. 

Seirin had been dismissed after the practice game, third years gotta study for entry exams and all that shit. Kiyoshi stayed behind long enough to watch the rest of Kirisaki Daiichi pack up and leave - leave Hanamiya alone to go over the practice game with the newly hired Kirisaki Daiichi coach. 

Kirisaki Daiichi had lost the game. 

Hanamiya did have some choice words for Kiyoshi that he mumbled under his breath after their teams bowed to each other out of respect.

Kiyoshi must have heard him. 

Kiyoshi's eyes are dark, gone is the flippant expression he usually wears, the one that finds humor in everything and in its place is the focused look when his eyes follow the ball. He looks at Hanamiya like he wants to overpower him with his will alone. 

With his body too apparently. 

Hanamiya's biting at Kiyoshi's lips and pulling, growling into his mouth, Kiyoshi slides his hands up Hanamiya's jersey and shucks it up roughly. 

He smiles widely against Kiyoshi's lips, "If you were like this more often, I think I'd want to destroy you even more." he says digging his fingers into the meat of Kiyoshi's sides above his hips. He'd want to destroy Kiyoshi if only to get rid of the temptation all together. 

Kiyoshi's expression is placating, a little patronizing when he says, "Would you like this to be about destruction?" his tone is soft in that dangerous way that goes straight down Hanamiya's spine sharply, settles in the bulge in his shorts. 

"Honestly? Yeah because the only way you'd actually give me a good fuck was if you bothered to care less about me-- or anything--" Hanamiya tilts his head. Kiyoshi runs the tips of his fingers up Hanamiya's nipples, with a quick intake of breath Hanamiya can't control he leans forward, licks at Kiyoshi's earlobe before he bites down on it. "If you want this, then don't care about me." he breathes. 

"I won't." Kiyoshi says, barely reacting to the sting of the bite, with a large hand firmly curling around Hanamiya's chin, he directs Hanamiya back to him, their mouths knocking back together, breaths harsh and mixing in the hair between them, teeth hard and more a collision than anything else. 

Kiyoshi's scent is thick with sweat. They did just run around for nearly two whole hours. The musk is languid and salt sharp on Hanamiya's tongue. He pulls away just enough to grin. 

"God, you're fucking horrible at this," his hand landing on Kiyoshi's wrist, his hand up against his body. He pushes Kiyoshi's hand up until it's gripping around his throat. "I said don't care about me-- I don't care about you Kiyoshi--if you want to fuck--don't fucking sugar coat it--" Hanamiya cuts off with a hitch of breath, Kiyoshi's thumb and fingers pressing down with intent at the sides of his throat. 

He curses, mouth open panting where Kiyoshi takes the opportunity to lick into him, keeps his hold, one palm at his chin and the other around his throat, Hanamiya's hands digging his blunt nails into his shoulders. "I'm not interested--" he says and Hanamiya has to wonder why the fucker never finishes his sentences, his head is starting to swim when Kiyoshi lets go. Hanamiya's nearly limp already. 

"--Then don't just say it--" Hanamiya sneers, pressing their hips together, Kiyoshi slides one big thigh between his knees and Hanamiya ruts impatiently against him. 

Kiyoshi loosens his hold and the adrenaline high hits Hanamiya's head like a drug rush. He doesn't even realize he's trying to blink back to some semblance of clarity because there's frustration and urgency burning in his blood, Kiyoshi presses his thigh forward, upward, increases the friction, the pressure, Hanamiya's eyes flutter shut. 

The bath tile beads from their collective harsh breaths, it's as if the stall has risen a handful of degrees. It's sizable enough for one but two is pushing it and Kiyoshi's back rattles the stall door every time they get too eager and Kiyoshi's leaving marks all down Hanamiya's throat, sucking until the skin is flushed and red and blotchy where the mark will come to light like a photo developing sooner than later. 

Hanamiya pulls at Kiyoshi's shirt with the intent to tear it but the jersey blend just isn't conducive to what he wants so he whines and growls like a feral dog until Kiyoshi stops everything and grabs his own jersey by the scruff and pulls it off in one fluid motion over his head, it lands somewhere between their feet on top of the drain. His hands flying back to Hanamiya's hips to pull them back together. 

Kiyoshi steps on it on his journey to readjust flush against him. It spots with yet to dry water in the shape of his sole. Hanamiya slides his foot forward to hold himself steady, he would've slipped if Kiyoshi's hands weren't holding him still, weren't pulling his shorts down over his hips, weren't digging into his hip bones, sharp against the pads of his thumbs. 

The moment Hanamiya's cock is exposed, Kiyoshi's palming it roughly in his hand and Hanamiya gasps at the feverish way he does it, shifting the skin of the shaft back and forth over the head. He sucks in air through his teeth, "Fuck--Kiyoshi--" he hisses pressing his fingers into Kiyoshi's shoulder. 

He doesn't even have to open his mouth before Kiyoshi's on his knees, and something creeping and acrid blooms in Hanamiya's chest. Positions of submission running under his skin like an itch he worries at until it's peeling and bleeding, the satisfaction too much to stop. 

Hanamiya moans, Kiyoshi's already sinking his mouth down on him, looking up at him with an unbreakable stare that makes his skin crawl, that makes his cock stiffen. His dark brown eyes, looking tepid and stagnant in the low light that's dim from behind the closed stall door. Hanamiya holds his stare like breaking it is an admission of defeat. 

Kiyoshi is first to look away as he glances down and begins to slide his mouth back down, to drag the edge of his teeth over the flushed head on the way back up and Hanamiya's hips stutter in his hands and he chokes on his breath. 

Hanamiya slides his hands down into Kiyoshi's hair, Kiyoshi's mouth goes pliant just enough for Hanamiya to start directing the rhythm, to start a shallow thrust, the head of his cock poking and stretching the skin of his cheek. Hanamiya's smile is pleased and crooked. To use Kiyoshi's mouth just like that, cock sliding across the warmth of his tongue, his spit mingling with the precome, Hanamiya could come if he starts going faster, which is tempting. 

He digs his fingers, blunt nails in Kiyoshi's hair against his scalp, holding him still as he thrusts just deep enough, urgent enough to hear the suction of Kiyoshi's throat followed by the clench of his esophagus as he chokes, Hanamiya glances down to see his large hand rubbing himself through his shorts. 

"Shit--" Hanamiya says pulling his cock free, still connecting to Kiyoshi's mouth with messy strands of spit. 

Kiyoshi licks his lips, swipes at the mess on his chin with the back of his hand as he stands back up. 

Hanamiya throws his arms over Kiyoshi's shoulders, melding their lips back together, reveling in the taste of himself on Kiyoshi's tongue. Kiyoshi's pressed close, hands back on his hips like they're the natural handles of him. He nips at Kiyoshi's bottom lip, tugs it back towards himself and feels Kiyoshi slip his tongue inside. 

When they pull away to breathe, Hanamiya watches Kiyoshi, eyes intent on his, as he slides his second and third fingers into his mouth, eyes sliding over Hanamiya's face as he does it. It's filthy and playful in all the ways Hanamiya hates. 

He's absolutely doing it on purpose. 

He barely has time to roll his eyes properly because Kiyoshi has pushed Hanamiya's shorts down the rest of the way, they pool over his shoes near his trampled shirt and he can't even completely separate them from himself because Kiyoshi's fingers are sliding past his balls, pressing and rubbing insistently over the soft skin, over his rim nestled between his cheeks. 

Hanamiya inhales and exhales sharp and almost broken at the feel of it, his mouth hanging open, the sorry moan moistening his lips, suffusing into Kiyoshi's mouth. 

Kiyoshi doesn't wait, doesn't waste any time, pressing two fingers past his still clenched rim, his other hand moving his thighs a bit further apart. Hanamiya grits his teeth, feels the intrusion of fingers deep in his belly like a weight has settled there. The weight of it something of arousal tinged with the sharp pinch of anticipation. The sting of the stretch of it makes Hanamiya rock his hips against Kiyoshi's forearm, his wrist. 

"Did you want lube?" Kiyoshi asks breathless, his fingers don't still. 

Hanamiya snorts, "This is a quick fuck--where--" he breaks off in a moan as Kiyoshi slides his fingers in deep, "--where do you-- you bring lube in your gym bag--?" Hanamiya's brows come in close, disbelief. "I guess I would too if I took it up the ass after practice every day--" the malice in his tone is woefully dampened as he can't keep it too well, the irony of it dripping from between hsi lips suffusing the space between them tangible enough even if neither of them point it out. Kiyoshi moves his fingers quicker, deliberate or not, jostling him and fucking up the rhythm. 

"--Fuck-- I don't care--neither of us have it--I just want you to fuck me that's it," he pauses, "There's something for both of us. Why even bring it up?" 

Kiyoshi actually laughs, "There are few pleasantries that should always be considered--" 

"Yeah and I said I don't care," Hanamiya watches Kiyoshi pull his fingers free, he wobbles dangerously on his feet. Kiyoshi slips his fingers back into his mouth, slathering them with more spit before returning them. Hanamiya had almost cursed him for taking them away before he realized what he was doing. His brain already beginning to short circuit in the demand for pleasure. 

Kiyoshi slides in three and if Hanamiya didn't curse a second ago, he nearly shouts, it comes out of his mouth wavering and shuddering, half pain and half sharp pleasure. 

Mostly pleasure. 

Hanamiya croons and the bath tile nearly sings with it. 

"Fuck-- hurry up Kiyoshi--" Hanamiya says, shifting his hips back and forth, taking in more. He holds onto Kiyoshi with one hand and strokes himself with the other in time to the movement of Kiyoshi's hand. 

Kiyoshi doesn't ask and Hanamiya's hand fly onto his shoulders at the abruptness of it, Kiyoshi pulling his fingers free and taking hold of Hanamiya's thighs and hefting him up, using the wall as leverage, pats his thighs and Hanamiya locks them around his waist. 

"Finally--" Hanamiya sighs, jutting a hand down between them to stroke Kiyoshi's cock, it's stiff and hot in his hand. Hanamiya licks a stripe up his own palm before returning it, slicking up the shaft the best he can. His shorts are hanging by the pant hole off his left shoe, Kiyoshi unhooks it and it falls to the floor too. 

When Kiyoshi slides in Hanamiya leans forward, Kiyoshi crowding him in against the wall, he bites down on the soft patch of muscle at the foot of Kiyoshi's nape. 

Kiyoshi slides in slow at first and then all at once, the burn of it making Hanamiya clamp his mouth shut hard enough to break skin. His resounding groan muffled into Kiyoshi's shoulder, eyes moving back beneath his eyelids. 

"Oh fuck--" Hanamiya murmurs, he swallows over the knot in his throat. "Oh my fuck--" Kiyoshi's stretching him almost painfully open, the skin when he lets go to look at it is a reddened swollen oval imprint of teeth. 

Kiyoshi's eyes have fluttered shut, his hips stilling, cock pressed in wholly and tightly, he licks his lips. 

His palms are big enough to support Hanamiya, fingers spanned across each asscheek. His first thrust is a rough push in and Hanamiya's mouth falls open, Kiyoshi groans and its sound feels hollow in his ears. 

No matter how real it was, Hanamiya exhales and tries to focus on the press of the dick inside him more than the human it's attached to. After all this is what they came here for. He's being jostled up against the wall every time Kiyoshi thrusts. 

His pace rapidly becoming harder and quicker, Hanamiya isn't really registering how loud he's getting, he stopped caring about it a while ago anyway. His own noises, broken hurried moans and sharp rasping gasps are bouncing along the tile and back to him as if they were the noises of the stranger. He clamps his teeth down on Kiyoshi's earlobe this time, tugging as he's pushed up and settled back down with the rock of Kiyoshi's hips. 

Kiyoshi groans and curses low, the way he holds Hanamiya's ass, the blunt edge of his fingers, surely leaving impressions in the meat of his thighs, Hanamiya's gonna bruise, it's like he's merely a cocksleeve to be used. 

Hanamiya doesn't know if he's ever been this turned on in his life. 

Everyone's too careful, too gentle. He wants to be fucked to be used and he didn't think Kiyoshi ever had it in him. But the look in his eyes, the dark brown, the reckless abandon. 

Hanamiya hates it but it's also nearly the only thing he likes about him.

With all the thrusting Kiyoshi is doing, Hanamiya's more or less adjusted to the size of him now, completely open to the blossom of pleasure leaping and jumping angrily in his gut. He doesn't expect the stretch of Kiyoshi's cock to bring him so close to quickly. He's mumbling a litany of "fuck," in a tone so frustrated Kiyoshi only briefly hesitates before resuming his earlier breakneck pace. 

Hanamiya can only hold on, dig his fingers into Kiyoshi's back, draw red lines down his shoulder blades, close his eyes and focus on how fucking full he feels and how on fire the rest of his body is, clamp his teeth back down on the already swollen patch of skin. 

It breaks this time and he comes with a burst of copper on his tongue. 

"Shit--" Kiyoshi breathes at the sharp pain of it, hips still moving fast, Hanamiya's come splattering between them, he moans and doesn't stop, growing in volume with the waves of his orgasm, his nails leaving indents in Kiyoshi's biceps, the air of the stall muggy and thick with the scent of sex. 

Kiyoshi doesn't slow down. 

It feels like whiplash inside, whatever it is in his belly curdling and aimless so briefly before it starts shooting up like a rocket once more. 

Hanamiya whines as the feel of the stretch turns screeching and halting, sensitivity lighting up everything below his waist, his muscles screaming, his cock still dribbling steadily, jumping and twitching with the oncoming stimulus.

The orgasm builds sticky and preemptively in his gut, hotter and hotter and haphazard and angry and Hanamiya's riding the complete high of it as if his body isn't pleading for it to stop. 

In that moment, the cock in him is god's gift to him. He feels sorry for the next person he sleeps with, he's already disappointed in them. It's just everything in him, shouting that this is all wrong, how can he be enjoying himself when the man attached to the cock is one of the people he hates the most?

But Kiyoshi's pushing and pushing and seemingly knows exactly what to do to have Hanamiya catching fire and bursting in his body in the best way possible. He can barely feel what's going on, almost numb and yet at the same time Kiyoshi's lighting a fire in his belly, across the plane of his skin, flush up his throat. His eyes are tearing up, he sinks his teeth desperately, so desperately into Kiyoshi's collarbone. The bone of it directly non conducive to what he wants. Kiyoshi's using both his arms to move him up and down his cock. Hanamiya can only hold on, he can't stop his body from shaking. 

He can feel the second climax hot on the heels of the first one, so close the tightening in his belly is unbearable and frantic. Hanamiya gasps brokenly into the silence of the locker room. 

He's being pulled so taut he can't focus on the pinch of Kiyoshi's expression, his own noises that mirror Hanamiya's in their impatience, in their ardency. 

Kiyoshi stops, Hanamiya unfilled and suspended in Kiyoshi's arms and in the sudden emptiness in his body, he cries out and he's not sure if it's desperation or grief or ire or a combination of the three. 

Kiyoshi has completely and utterly taken him apart. 

Hanamiya doesn't want to admit that perhaps two could play at that game. 

Kiyoshi would have to break him more than once to convince him of the admission. Hanamiya watches almost dumbly, a little dopily, like he can't comprehend the information coming in through his eyes, as Kiyoshi ruts against his belly and comes. 

His come marks Hanamiya across the belly, the crease of his thighs. Normally considerate to a fault Kiyoshi, normally considerate to the point of self destruction Kiyoshi, suddenly capable Kiyoshi breaking and ruining Hanamiya's climax with an ease that makes him draw in ragged panicked breaths. The last jittery remnants of it slipping away like a dog backing away with its tail between its legs. 

Kiyoshi looks unruffled, despite the sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, head tilted in his direction, expression hard to read. They both came wasn't it enough? 

He's lowering Hanamiya down in the next breath, quiet despite the heavy panting. Leaves Hanamiya to lean up against the tile despite the shaking in his legs, come marking him from belly to knees. 

Claiming him. 

It burns on his skin. He must look pitiful.

"Was that what you wanted?" Hanamiya doesn't quite recognize his own voice, sinking to his ass on the tile, his legs struggling to hold his body up they're more akin to jelly than actual limbs capable of holding weight. 

Kiyoshi's breathing hard, "I would venture to say it's more what you wanted." 

Hanamiya tenses his jaw, grits his teeth, "Are you proud of it?" he doesn't want to give the question an explanation so he doesn't. He watches Kiyoshi run his fingers gently over the bite marks on his shoulder, he winces and Hanamiya can't stop the satisfaction that flows free in his head. The ounce of heat in his blood. 

Kiyoshi tucks his cock back into his shorts, "Not really," he says, a pause. And then, "But I don't think that's what you wanted of me."

"And so tell me, what do you think I want from you?" Hanamiya says hardness edging back into his voice. 

"I'm not quite sure of that either honestly," Kiyoshi's expression is softening before his eyes. Gone is the user, gone is the one track mind hell bent on claiming Hanamiya as his. Hell bent on humiliating him. "Like you said, you don't want me to care about this so I'll respect your wishes. I won't." how does that soft a voice sound so cold?

Hanamiya steels himself, reaches for his clothes in front of himself, he's been utterly outpaced at his own game and he can't stand it. "Fuck off Kiyoshi--go home and cry about it." he says not looking at him. "This isn't some serious shit, it's a fuck not a chess game." he starts to shove his leg into the designated hole, one then the other, lifting his hips to get it over the curve of his ass, cock disappearing beneath the fabric now. 

He sits there shirtless, a little less exposed, a little less pitiful. 

"I don't plan on telling anyone if that's what you're worried about." Kiyoshi says reaching for his own shirt, when he comes back up he says, "For what it's worth, I think that we both needed that. Take that how you will Makoto." And with that Kiyoshi pops open the latch and in one of his only bouts of consideration of the evening he closes the door behind him the best he can despite being unable to lock it from the other side and then he's gone. 

Hanamiya turns on the water the hottest it can go and scrubs at himself with his hands until he's red raw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have [twitter](https://twitter.com/ozo_bot)


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